


Five Times Castiel was Confused and One Time He Wasn’t

by hit_the_books



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Canon, Betaed, Castiel Dreams of Dean, Castiel Watches Porn, Characters Reading Fanfiction, Dodgy Emoji Use, Extreme Prejudice To Wallpaper, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Pining Castiel, Regret, Sam Ships It, Season/Series 05, Season/Series 06, Season/Series 09, Season/Series 10, Season/Series 11, Season/Series 12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-14 06:00:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8001148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hit_the_books/pseuds/hit_the_books
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is much of human existence that Castiel does not understand and finds confusing. But perhaps one person in all of humanity doesn't have to remain a mystery to the fallen seraph.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Castiel was Confused and One Time He Wasn’t

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zeryx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeryx/gifts).



> This is a Birthday fic for Zeryx - I hope you like it :)
> 
> The Castiel/April moment of this fic is incredibly short.
> 
> Thanks to [Hermit9](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Hermit9) for betaing this fic for me.

Centering himself, Castiel collects his thoughts while Dean showers in the motel room’s bathroom. Sam is somewhere in town getting food for himself and Dean, and Castiel is processing that Gabriel is alive. Getting past the tortures Gabriel put Dean, Sam and himself through. He’s not sure how Gabriel’s existence swings the apocalypse, though he’s confident that Gabriel isn’t going to accelerate it.

 _What small mercy that is_ , Castiel thinks bitterly. But what he’s really thankful for right now is that the walls of this motel room are a pale blue, no wallpaper in sight. Never before had he held a grudge against contemporary human decor, but if he ever saw that lime green beflowered wallpaper ever again? He’d smite it and the room that it decorated.

Flexing his wings, Castiel can’t decide if he should stay or if he should leave Dean and Sam to whatever it is they will do tonight. It’s not that Castiel wants to leave, but he’s unsure if Dean wants him to remain here.

A ringing sound draws Castiel out of his thoughts and he looks for the source of the noise. One of Dean’s cell is buzzing and ringing atop the room’s table. Walking over to it, Castiel notes that the caller has no caller ID. There’s no reason for him to pick up the cell, but Castiel stretches his fingers out to it and picks it up. He flips the device open like he’s seen Dean do a dozen times before and holds it to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Is this John Bonham?” asks a woman with an accent Castiel can’t quite place. He recognizes the name as one of Dean’s aliases.

“Uhhhhh… I’m—”

“Hello, Mister Bonham, I’m Janice of Sol Solar Dreams. We recently mailed you some information pertaining to household solar panels. And I was wondering if you had had a chance to look over the information—”

“I’m not John Bonham,” Castiel interrupts. _Why ask a question and then assume the answer without waiting for one? Why would Dean care about solar panels? Dean does not have a home. How did this woman obtain this number?_

“Mister Bonham,” Janice continues, as if she’s not heard Castiel.

Pulling the cell away from his ear, baffled as to why this woman is calling one of Dean’s aliases, Castiel closes the cell and places it back on the table. He frowns at the device and is still frowning at it by the time Dean steps out of the bathroom, towel around his waist.

“Did my cell ring, Cas?”

Coming back to himself, Castiel glances over to Dean and forces himself to ignore Dean’s exposed skin. “A woman called Janice, from Sol Solar Dreams was trying to talk to John Bonham about solar panels for his home.”

Dean rolls his eyes and heads over to his duffel. “Damn telemarketers. How the hell did they get hold of that number?”

Quirking his head to one side, Castiel still doesn’t quite understand what has just happened and Dean offers no further explanation.

***

It isn’t that Castiel has sought out the content that is now on the television screen, but he can’t find a reason to just change the channel or turn the television off. No one is paying him any attention, no one seems to care that this is what he’s watching.

“It’s very complex,” Castiel offers to no one, eyes glued to the screen as a babysitter is bent over a couch and has her rear swatted by the pizza man’s hand.

Dean doesn’t look up from the research on the table as he hums, “Mm-hmm.”

But Castiel doesn’t understand why the pizza man treats the babysitter like he is. “If the pizza man truly loves this babysitter, why does he keep slapping her rear? Perhaps she’s done something wrong.”

“You’re watching porn? Why?” Dean asks, attention no longer on his research, apparently.

This seems like a pointless question, but Castiel answers anyway, “It was there.” The slapping on screen intensifies and Castiel shifts on his seat, feeling his vessel’s blood begin to pool in his groin.

Dean sounds irritated as he says, “You don’t watch porn in a room full of dudes. And you don’t talk about it. Just turn it off.”

 _But why?_ Castiel wants to ask, but is suddenly distracted. He looks down at his lap and realizes that something has happened to his penis.

“Well, now he’s got a boner,” Dean states to Sam.

Having watched humanity for centuries, Castiel never thought for one second he would experience an erection. But now that he has one, he’s unsure what he should do about it. He’s about to ask Dean when Samuel Campbell enters the house.

“This what you boys do, sit around watching pornos with angels?” Samuel queries, tone one that Castiel does not recognize.

“We’re not supposed to talk about it,” Castiel answers. But Castiel would like to ask Dean why the babysitter appears to enjoy the punishment being meted out by the pizza man—her pleasure seeming to run against what Castiel knows of humans’ never ending need to avoid pain.

Paying no heed to the conversation between Samuel, Dean and Sam, Castiel shifts awkwardly on his seat and feels his underwear catch on his still erect penis. The slight friction sends a shiver down his spine and his mind starts to wander, as a part of him wishes he understood the events on screen. _Because why does the babysitter enjoy this so much? She can’t have done something wrong if she’s enjoying this?_

***

Despite April’s soft curves and gentle scent, Castiel can’t keep his thoughts on the woman as he sinks into her. He wishes he was with someone else. Someone with emerald green eyes, freckles and soft, short, light brown hair.

Castiel wishes he was with Dean rather than April. Exploring Dean’s body, not April’s. Kissing Dean’s mouth, not April’s. The images in his mind’s eye are clear, but Castiel doesn’t get where they are coming from. He’s never thought of Dean in such an explicit manner before.

Even though the thoughts are confusing, Castiel comes to the image of Dean beneath him.

***

He had meant to be researching about the Mark of Cain after the informal meal he had shared with Dean, Sam and Charlie. But hidden away in the bookmarks of Sam’s browser are favorites that Castiel had never expected to find. But he is clicking on them now, each web page a surprise. He’s not entirely sure why Sam decided to make a note of these web pages, but this “fanfiction” all appears to be loosely based on the Winchester gospels.

Each story seems to feature Dean and Castiel involved with each other in a romantic manner. Sat in the Bunker’s kitchen, looking at the stories, Castiel does not understand why anyone would write about Dean and Castiel eating a pie together while sat on the hood of the Impala.

Or why one story has Dean kissing Castiel after stabbing him with Ruby’s knife during their first meeting. That somehow the attraction between Dean and him had been so strong that Dean’s fear was replaced with desire. Maybe Castiel has been increasingly imagining himself with Dean in similar scenarios, but the authors of these works don’t have access to Castiel’s mind and fantasies. _How could they possibly know that I desire Dean this badly and that I wish Dean wanted me this much?_

“Dean stands in front of Castiel and purses his lips, anticipation curling low in his belly,” Castiel reads out loud in his usual deep timbre, “but Dean’s too afraid to close the distance between them. Worried what it would mean if he takes this first step and gives into everything that has been boiling under his skin since they first met. If he takes this chance and closes the distance, seeks out what his body and heart desires—will Castiel return his affections? Dean isn’t sure. And it’s that ambiguity that holds Dean back, poised on the brink.

“Suddenly, Castiel closes the distance between Dean and him, making the choice for the both of them as he cups the back of Dean’s head and draws him into a kiss. Dean can’t help responding by opening his mouth to the angel and giving in to everything he has desired for so long.” Castiel stops reading, his face is flushed and his dress slacks feel tight.

“Whatcha looking at?” Sam is stood in front of Castiel eyebrows quirked, arms crossed.

“Uhhh… um…”

“It’s not porn, is it?” Sam asks, stepping around the kitchen table.

 _Maybe Sam will be able to explain this…_ “Sam, why is there “fanfiction” of Dean and me?”

Apparently that is the last question Sam expected to hear, because the younger Winchester stops in his tracks and levels a surprised gaze at Castiel. “You found the fanfic, huh?”

“Strangers on the internet are writing about Dean and I being together. And… And…”

“Yes, Cas?”

The angel didn’t realize that he could blush harder, but apparently his vessel can. Ducking his dead a little, Castiel asks, “Why?”

“Why what, Cas?”

Glancing up at Sam, Cas repeats in a surprisingly small voice, “Why is there fanfiction of Dean and me… together?”

“Because… subtext.” Sam winks at Castiel and turns on his heel, seeming to delight in leaving Castiel with no real answer to his confusion.

***

Shoes softly hitting the hallway floor, Castiel walks steadily towards the kitchen, the Bunker near silent. All Castiel can hear are the creaks and groans of the structure’s plumbing; the buzzing of electricity and the operations of life contained within his vessel. Dean and Sam are working a case in Oregon, and Castiel has been offering up what research he can as to the nature of the creature they are facing.

Cell in his hands, Castiel types out a text message to Dean, updating him that he hasn’t found anything that matches the wounds that Dean sent him photos of. The virtual keyboard on the cell is uncooperative for a moment as Castiel switches between lower and upper case, but he’s sure of what he’s typed and presses send without checking the message over.

Thinking it will be some time before Dean will reply, Castiel is surprised the moment is cell pings and tells him he has a text message from Dean:

 **DEAN:** What’s with the eggplant? You don’t send eggplants to guys Cas

Furrowing his brow, Castiel scrolls up to the message he sent Dean. There is indeed an accidentally included eggplant emoji in his previous message, but why it should be such a big deal for Dean—Castiel doesn’t understand.

 **CASTIEL:** It is just an eggplant, Dean.

Dean fires back yet another quick reply:

 **DEAN:** It’s not just an eggplant Cas

 _What else could it possibly mean? I send you smiley faces when I am happy about things and that means that. So surely an eggplant is just an eggplant?_ But Castiel doesn’t feel he can ask Dean why he seems so offended by the use of the eggplant.

Instead he types out a message to Claire, asking her and sends it. He doesn’t expect Claire to reply soon, but Castiel is surprised when his cell pings with a message from Claire:

 **CLAIRE:** Hey Cas. An eggplant emoji doesn’t mean an eggplant

 **CASTIEL:** What does it mean?

 **CLAIRE:** You really don’t know? It means penis. People use it to mean a penis

 **CASTIEL:** But it doesn’t look anything like a penis.

 **CLAIRE:** That’s how people use it Cas. I don’t make the rules. Talk soon

Looking at the handful of messages, Castiel decides, even though he still does not understand why humanity has collectively decided that an eggplant means a penis, that he will text an apology to Dean. He keeps it simple and does not use the offending emoji:

 **CASTIEL:** I apologize for sending you a penis, Dean.

Dean’s reply is swift.

 **DEAN:** Just drop it Cas

But he can’t.

 **CASTIEL:** Though I still don’t understand how an eggplant can mean a penis.

***

This is the first time they’ve stood still since Sam was rescued—they’re back in the Bunker. Mary is in Sam’s room, redressing Sam’s wounds. Dean is meant to be cooking dinner for everyone. Castiel watches Dean’s back as he stirs the pot on the stove, the contents homemade meatballs in a rich sauce. There’s noodles to put on in a moment and Castiel rolls back his sleeves, wondering if he should offer his assistance.

When he thought Dean was dead, Castiel had felt a pain so tight and suffocating that he hadn’t really known what to do with himself. He’d wanted to stand at Dean’s side and help him face oblivion, so that he wasn’t alone. Because if there’s one thing Castiel is now sure of is that he doesn’t want Dean to ever be alone again.

The two of them have hardly shared a word since Sam was saved, but Castiel can no longer stand the silence between them. He walks up to Dean and clears his throat.

“Dean.”

“What is it, Cas?” Dean turns and faces him, face frowning.

Having those deep green eyes on him stills the words he wanted to stay. Castiel licks his lips a second, trying to gather this thoughts, but he notices how Dean’s eyes track the movement. They’re standing closer together than Castiel intended for them to be and he realizes that he’s had enough of his fantasies, of wondering whether Dean wants him as much as Castiel wants Dean. He’s sick of dreaming and he knows how he truly feels about Dean.

Closing what little distance is left between them, Castiel presses his lips to Dean’s. Castiel doesn’t box Dean in as he kisses him, giving him plenty of room to get away if he wants. Just as Castiel thinks Dean wants him to stop, Dean pushes against Castiel’s lips, sending sparks up Castiel’s spine—easing their mouths open and flicking his tongue inside.

A second later and Dean wraps his hands around Castiel and takes the lead, deepening the kiss as he cradles the back of Castiel’s head. Dean tastes faintly of whisky and a slice of apple pie he’d eaten some hours before, or as Castiel’s tastebuds translate it—Dean tastes like the sweetest nectar in all of of existence. Hands reaching up to Dean, Castiel strokes the hunter’s back through his shirts and pulls him closer, hands demanding what he’s craved for years.

Dean breaks the kiss and presses his forehead against Castiel’s. “Cas… what… what was that?” he asks breathlessly.

The muscles beneath Castiel’s hands quiver. “That was a kiss, Dean.”

Swallowing, Dean huffs short little breaths across Castiel’s face. “Right, a kiss. Holy fuck. We kissed.”

Castiel is not confused by what’s happened. To him it feels like a resolution he has been seeking for far too long. He belongs here and with this man. “I love you, Dean.”

A nervous shiver runs through Dean and Castiel listens to the man swallow again. “I… hell… I love you too, Cas.”

Slipping his face down, Castiel captures Dean’s lips with his own again and kisses the hunter deeply. Tongue sliding gently into Dean’s mouth, Castiel groans as Dean presses his body closer.

Preternatural hearing picking up on approaching footsteps, Castiel can’t bring himself to care as Dean and him are caught in their embrace. Hands holding Dean close, Castiel continues to work his lips against Dean’s, feeling the heat of the blush reddening Dean’s cheeks. Aware of the reassuring beat of Dean’s heart against his chest.

“Told you,” Sam says from somewhere near by.

“We should probably leave them to it,” whispers Mary. The footsteps start to move away. “How long—”

“Too long,” is Sam’s answer as the two of them walk towards the library.

Breaking the kiss again, Dean looks up into Castiel’s eyes and asks, “Was somebody just here?”

“I’m unsure,” Castiel lies gently. He half expects Dean to untwine himself completely, but instead the hunter twists in Castiel’s arms and faces the stove, picking up the spoon and starts to stir the meatballs again.

“We should have done that sooner,” Dean murmurs.

Castiel doesn’t reply to that, holding Dean close as the hunter continues to stir. He kisses the side of Dean’s neck and nuzzles at him. The clarity of their love solid and here.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments welcome. And if you do comment I will endeavor to respond to you.
> 
> Find me on Tumblr at [dreamsfromthebunker](http://dreamsfromthebunker.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Thanks to [A_Diamond](http://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Diamond) for suggestions on some of the five things.


End file.
